


Assorted Billford Ficlets

by Swiftblight



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: 500 triangle children AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Horror, Demon!Ford, Hard vore, M/M, one of us au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-02 01:31:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6544993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swiftblight/pseuds/Swiftblight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically where I post all my one-shot but not-full-story worthy Billford musings. Each chapter will have additional tags in the notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Broody

**Author's Note:**

> Contains Egg Preg, of a sort. Demon!Ford, Triangle Bill, lots and lots of eggs. Pre-500 Triangle Children AU.

There it was again. For the third time his concentration was broken by… something. It was hard to pinpoint, whatever it was, beside being a vague feeling almost like a tickle. But where? Curiosity demanded he find the source now, and he turned away from the stars he had been studying, grounding himself once more in the limited perspective of his physical form.

Imagine his surprise when Bill wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Usually when something pestered his physical form, it was the annoying entity of chaos begging for attention or otherwise bored. If he really was being needy, he’d follow Stanford into whatever higher dimension his consciousness was busy in; or else destroy the object of study. But not today. He hummed and went to stand when he felt it again, this time able to understand the feedback. A tiny tap against the inside of his cloak. The eggs; they were moving.

Stanford let the material fan out from his body and inspected the brood clinging there. How long had they been incubating? Time was so meaningless now, but after a moment of thought he decided two to three months. He hardly paid attention to them after Bill put them there, after all. Just thirty six hours ago Teeth had licked some from his coat-tails. Now though he took a moment to really examine the eggs. There were hundreds of transparent oblong shapes, and inside each one something half-formed and gold shimmered. One squirmed and tapped against its shell; the source of the irritation he’d felt earlier. Stanford suddenly wanted to know more about them; when would they hatch? What would they look like? Did they need constant care like human infants or would they be independent? He drew his fingers through the clutch and the little forms stirred to life in reaction. A smile spread across his face.

“Hey nerd, you still looking at stars or ya wanna come hang out? That creature with like 86 faces dropped by and wanted to play cards.” Bill entered with all the grace and subtly he possessed; aka none.

Ford frowned at the intrusion and rolled his eyes, exasperated but tolerant for now.  
The moment he turned more than half his attention away from Bill, though, the demigod noticed. His single eye followed Stanford’s gaze to the eggs and he let out a barking laugh.

“Oh-ho! How’s my little side-project coming along?” He floated closer and pulled Ford’s coat open, ignoring the way he tensed in reaction. “Hmm, not bad! They’re growing pretty quick, I knew you’d be a great host Fordsy. You look good carrying.” Bill pressed a hand to Stanford’s midsection, his eye crinkled in amusement, before turning back to the eggs themselves. He carded his hand through them like he so often did with Ford’s hair, and the ex-man felt a tinge of fondness at the action. It was ruined when Bill grabbed a handful and ripped them off his coat, tossing them into his mouth without hesitation. “Ugh, not ripe yet, need a bit more time. Keep up the good work though! Now, let’s go crush that thing’s 85 faces or whatever- what’s with the look?” The triangle stopped his monologue and put a hand on his side, staring at Ford.

He was shocked and a bit hurt, and he didn’t know why. He shouldn’t be. So what if Bill pulled the parasitic eggs from his body without thought? It was Bill Cipher, he did that all the time. “...I’d rather not play today.” Stanford admits, still mulling over his own emotional reaction. Bill huffed and dropped the cloak so he could put his OTHER hand on his side as well.

“Aww, c’mon Sixer, don’t be such a stick in the mud and have some fun! You know you waaaant toooo~” He made an obnoxious kissing noise and Stanford had enough. He narrowed his eyes and wrapped the billowing cloak tight around himself, baring teeth even.

“I said ‘no’. You can’t MAKE me either, Cipher, not anymore.” He was being irrational, he knew, but the anger came easy.

“Yeesh, who spit in your Cheerios! No one’s making you have fun and also not be so lame, since ya wanna be moody! Join in later when you get over it.” Bill ignored the threat of Stanford’s body language and planted a kiss on his nose anyway before floating away. He relaxed by inches once the triangle was gone until finally he let his coat fall open again. Some of the eggs had been knocked askew and he meticulously straightened them without realizing what he was doing.

Why did it matter?

He floated up into the air, drifting while he got lost in introspection. It wasn’t like he’d asked to be host of nearly a thousand eggs; Bill had just done it one day. At any time he could have destroyed them, but it seemed like more trouble than it was worth, right? Was that the only reason? Ford curled his legs up and let his coat surround him, fingers tapping against the little yellow orbs. Sometimes they tapped back, after a moment, and he smiled again. He thought Bill destroyed all of his humanity, but apparently a few instincts slipped through the cracks. That was fine though, he thought as he began humming to his clutch; some song he’d long forgotten the words to, but the tune still comforting. Hundreds of little potential lives. Ford sighed and let himself be lulled by the rhythmic pulse of their movements.


	2. Tender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some beautiful gore for my beloved isa of course. <3 
> 
> Warnings: Questionable horrible love, hard vore, gore

It burned. That was the main difference between this and the deal he made with Bill over 30 years ago. Then it had been… almost cold. The chill had run up his spine, but it was nothing to the warmth of ~~love~~ friendship. This scorched up his arm and felt like he was burning from the inside, under his skin. Distantly, under the roar of pain, he was aware of Bill laughing like he’d won the universe. 

Though it felt like an eternity, it must’ve only been a few seconds when it finally stopped again. He felt different, but that was to be expected. However, he didn’t really _look_ any different. Shouldn’t he, after all, that was what he asked for; Bill to take away his humanity. To take away all the pain of his mistakes and leave him… well, ‘pure’ didn’t seem right, but maybe ‘clean’. Stanford turned his black hands over, flexing them, looking for some sort of answer when suddenly dozens of claws gripped him. They tore his coat off, along with rending his sweater into pieces, all before he could even utter a single word. 

“Mmm, I’ve been waiting a _long_ time to do this, but you’ll forgive me for wanting to get to it~” Bill says sweetly, his black palms smoothing up the tattered, twisting horror that was Ford’s chest now. 

“What do you mean? Do what? You already took my humanity…” 

Bill tuts under his breath, cupping the man’s face in his hands. He leans forward and catches his lips in a kiss that is far too sweet, too loving for what Cipher is. It’s too loving for what Stanford has done. He doesn’t deserve it but he holds onto the embrace and kisses back. When Bill pulls away from him he chases after him, not wanting the weight of his bad choices to catch up with him just yet.

“Nah, all that I did right there was make you immortal. Gotta walk before you can run Fordsy, cuz you wouldn’t survive this next bit otherwise.” Fear raced through his heart and Stanford struggles, the hands all over his body suddenly holding him up.

“What do you mean, I won’t survive? What do you plan to do to me?” 

“Oh! Don’t worry, just what we agreed on. I’ll take away all those mortal restrictions of yours and ya won’t have to be hurt by morals or anything like that anymore. But, since you gave it up, it belongs to _me_ now.” Bill _grins_ and Stanford knows he’s grinning because he’s everywhere. He’s an endless void of darkness and he’s the sun and- “Woah, don’t get so poetic, you’re making me blush, IQ.” He says in a way that implies Stanford should _continue_ to wax poetic. There is plenty to be poetic about, Ford thought, in his own defense. Bill was… beautiful, and terrible too. His six dark limbs stroke over the man’s body gently while a thousand golden eyes stare down at him. From between the layers of bricks sprouted teeth and slimy dark tongues that taste his bare legs. “Oh, just remembered, never answered on what I was gonna do with your fleshsuit.” Fingers pet through Stanford’s hair and he leans toward the affection, fear forgotten. He just wanted everything to stop. And here his destroyer was, offering a gentle hand. How could he say no? “Since it’s mine now! And I do love it, even if it’s gross! Full of blood and gunk,” Bill brushes the pads of his fingers over the man’s brows. “Do you know what the sincerest form of flattery is, Sixer?”

“...imitation?” He ventured a guess.

“Nah, cute answer though!” He ruffled Ford’s hair and leans down so his eye is only inches away. Stanford feels those strange things in his chest stir to life, squirming up towards Cipher. He realizes the gentle sensation along one of them must be Bill’s hand stroking it back. “No, the most sincere, honest form of appreciation is _consumption.”_

Stanford felt his breath grow cold. Bill smiled.

“I’m going to eat you.” Teeth sunk into skin and tore it away from the black, seething mess below. Saliva dripped into the hole and Ford’s mouth opened in a silent scream. “Take away all this junk that’s holding you back.” Another greedy mouthful, this one hurts less though. He can feel teeth scrape against his bone and suddenly he’s struck by the notion that he needs all this stuff OUT. It itches, it burns, it’s heavy and disgusting. He whimpers when a tongue dips into his chest and wraps around his heart. “Nothing left but YOU.” Even though it hurt soso much, every piece taken from him made him feel… lighter. Better. He began urging Bill on, hands and tendrils both grabbing at him and trying to get him to go faster. “Hah, not a chance IQ, I’m going to savor every bit. Shhh, don’t fret, I take good care of my things,” Bill pressed a kiss to Ford’s mouth and he eagerly opens for him. “And you were always my favorite plaything.” The demon was slowly tearing every bit of his old self away and swallowing it. Well… he loved Bill. And he had always loved things that could destroy him.


End file.
